


The Winter is Dark and Lonely

by NightmaresInsulation



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, also there is a monster don't worry about it, and longing, but I don't see it getting too bad dont worry, less than minor character death, like a lot o' pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-25 18:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21360817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmaresInsulation/pseuds/NightmaresInsulation
Summary: The winter is dark and lonely, it seeps deep into your bones, gripping you tightly in its grasp, and cannot be shaken off no matter how thick your sweater or how hot the fire in your hearth. It’s no surprise that most creatures in the valley try to take refuge from the icy claws of winter by sleeping for months on end in the cozy safety of their homes, with only a restless few continuing through the cold season. Even less stay awake for the winter in Moominvalley, making the cold isolation ring out even louder.When winter came to the valley it brought something with it, now it is lingering in the dark long after the snow has melted.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. By Winter's End

**Author's Note:**

> BIG OL' ASTERISK MY DUDES: As of starting this fic I only have eight chapters outlined and this one written, so tags and warnings will probably change over time. Including the confused vague wordy tags. The rating also may or may not change from G to T later depending on what I add or keep in. Also, see how it says there are going to be ten chapters? That's a complete guess. I only know for sure that it's going to be more than eight.

The winter is dark and lonely, it seeps deep into your bones, gripping you tightly in its grasp, and cannot be shaken off no matter how thick your sweater or how hot the fire in your hearth. It’s no surprise that most creatures in the valley try to take refuge from the icy claws of winter by sleeping for months on end in the cozy safety of their homes, with only a restless few continuing through the cold season. Even less stay awake for the winter in Moominvalley, making the cold isolation ring out even louder.

To Moomintroll it felt even colder and lonelier every passing year he failed to sleep through winter. For the past three winters he had only woken up sooner and sooner, this winter having only have been tossing and turning for about a week before waking. Not every winter was so bad, sometimes Little My would wake up briefly to keep him company and most winters Too-ticky would be around to talk to. But it was too early in the season for even the strange winter visitors to come to the valley just yet, and Little My had gone to stay with her sister back in early autumn and won’t be back until spring. The snow was horrid already but it only came up to Moomintroll’s knees, he had accepted that this was going to be an especially long winter pretty soon after waking up. He had tried leaving the valley a few times years ago; the farthest he managed to trek was only a little ways in the outskirts before the weather proved too harsh for him to move any farther out, Too-ticky having had to drag him back home after his tent got blown away in a storm. Now he that he’s older doesn’t even bother thinking about leaving the valley on his own. What would he even do if he got out? Moomins are not built for the cold and it would only make him feel lonelier, not to mention the possibility of him finding Snufkin out in the big wide world in one winter was slim to none.

Not to mention how unhappy it would make Snufkin if he were to tag along on his winter adventure without his say.

Instead of thinking about leaving Moomintroll now mostly thought about Snufkin during his winters. He thought about summers past, fishing together by rivers and lakes, of dragonflies tickling his ears and sleepy Snufkin songs. He thought about what they might do next summer, of what adventures they might have. He thought about Snufkin and the line of his silhouette in twilight and the sound of his voice when recounting something he had found funny or wonderful on his journeys, of the way his eyes go soft and round when he smiles and how he doesn’t seem to notice when Moomintroll has filled his hair with wild flowers while he’s deep in thought – until he inevitably crushes them under his hat long after, that is. He thought about his dear friend’s hands and how they feel in his own, nearly opposites in every way but still fitting together just fine all the same. And about the times they’ve danced and how alive and mirthful he looks doing so, and of how his nose would sometimes wrinkle when he laughs and how every time without fail he felt the urge to lean in –

But Moomintroll thought it would be better to distract himself, so on long lonely winters like this he will often put into trying to learn a new skill. Last year he had tried drawing, filling notebooks and loose pages with sketches of things around the house and little doodles of his friends and himself. For nearly half that spring the fur on his paws were stained grey from all the graphite and charcoal that got rubbed into it. The look Snorkmaiden gave him at seeing his messy fur made him both want to laugh and hideaway in guilt, out of the handful of people he’s told about his failed hibernations she’s always shown the most concern.

The chill in Moomintroll’s bones gave him an idea as to what to learn this year. He carefully – as to not wake anyone up –dug around for his mother’s book of knitting patterns and knitting bag, settled himself by the fire and started to work. His first attempt at a scarf was a bit of a disaster, it was horribly lumpy and full of dropped stitches. He also might have been too ambitious by using more than one color of yarn and trying to do one of the fancier designs in the book, he had to cut his losses halfway though when the whole thing was trying to curl in on its self like it was in pain. The second scarf was much better if rather bland and amateur looking, it was plain blue and a bit too wide for its length but still perfectly functional. As the winter went on he got more of the hang of it, falling into a rhythm quickly once going over a new stitch pattern a few times. He pretty soon realized through first few projects that knitting was not a very good hobby for distracting one from their thoughts, between the repetitive motion and the gentle sounds of needle clicking he was given perhaps too much room to think. He can’t say he much cares at this point, even when trying to do more mentally engaging things this winter his mind would wander rather badly. And as his mind tends to do when it wanders in winter it always ends up wandering back to Snufkin, even the yarn he was picking out felt influenced by his thoughts if the small collection of green and yellow garments piled on the sofa was any indication.

While looking at the now finished green knit hat in his hands, Moomintroll thought about whether or not Snufkin was cold where ever he was right now. Putting it down he idly thumbed through the knitting book, thinking deeply. What if he knitted Snufkin something to keep him warm next winter? Surly he must be feeling the chill as much as he is, even if he is further south it’s still winter. Then again, he might not be bothered by the cold as much as He was. The sudden memory of when he last saw Snufkin in autumn comes to his mind, the distance between them and the cold air, the icy feeling both in his limbs and with the way Snufkin looked at him –

Blinking hard he focused on the page in front of him, instructions for a complex pattern using multiple colors and different stitches filled the page with little numbered diagrams sandwiched between the blocks of words. Reading the words as intently as possible, pushing back the memory and the squeezing feeling it put in his chest as far into the back of his mind as he can. Going back on an earlier thought he made a decision, he was going to make Snufkin something. Come next winter he will give it to him and if he doesn’t want it… Well then, he can just leave it behind. That’s fine.

Everything is fine.

This is also what Moomintroll tells Too-ticky when she checks in on him days later to find him tangled in yarn.

“You don’t look much fine to me.” She said, closing the door behind her.

“Well, I am, _fine that is_, just a little –“ He went to stand up but only tangled himself further when he started struggling against the wooly web around him, then sighing and going limp in defeat. “Just a little tied up…”

She helped the poor moomin out of the mess and up on to his feet, all the while laughing under her breath. She looked around at all the little projects strewn about the living room. “I see you’ve picked up learning to knit this winter,” looking back at Moomintroll she gave him a small sympathetic smile. “And from the looks of it you’ve been at it sense the start of it I’m guessing.”

Sighing he bent down to start picking up the project he was working on, wrapping the loose yarn back into a ball. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Too-ticky. I keep waking up earlier and earlier every year, last year I didn’t even fall back asleep before spring!”

He played with the loose bundle of thread in his paws for a moment, “I don’t know why I bother expecting to hibernate, I should just be planning out my winter in fall at this point. Hah, maybe I could start a big craft project next year! Like sewing a giant teddy bear or maybe I’ll give building another shot and make some sort of boat or gazebo, Mamma would love to wake up in the spring to a gazebo in her garden.”

“Speaking of crafts, you mind if I ask you what you were making there before it tried to eat you.”

Moomintroll perked up, and lifted up the partly made pattern in his paws. “It’s going to be a poncho! I thought Snufkin might like it.”

Too-ticky smiled at the square of yarn Moomintroll held up, reminiscent of a child proudly displaying their macaroni art. If he had shown it to Moominmamma in the same manner she probably would have pinned it to the fridge out of habit. “That sounds like a lovely gift, I’m sure he will love it.”

“I thought so too!” He nodded and folded it over, careful not to let the needles slide around in it. “It should be something he would appreciate,” he looked down at the pattern in his paws, blue on blue with flower-ish shapes (they’re just a little too vague to be ‘floral’) in white. It felt bumpy and soft. “even if he isn’t too keen on new clothes.” a short pause. “Or material gifts…” another pause. “and he might see it as me not thinking he can handle himself in the cold and reject it. Or worse, accept it and do away with it when I’m not looking as to not hurt my feelings and just say something along the lines of ‘I lost it’ when he comes back next spring without it. Or-“

Too-ticky placed a hand on his shoulder “Moomintroll, for your own mental health I’m gonna have to end your tangent there.”

“o-oh, sorry…”

She shook her head “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s okay to be scared, but you shouldn’t let the little fears overrun you.” she placed her hands onto his paws, loosening them from their grip on the now slightly crumpled soon-to-be poncho. “I’m certain he will love it, even if he doesn’t keep it forever the act of being given the gift he will hold on to for life.” She gave him a reassuring smile, grey eyes warmed by genuine care. Moomintroll thought for a moment, it was true that even though Snufkin never carried much with him he always held memories very closely to his heart. It’s true that he would be hurt if Snufkin didn’t take the gift with him next winter, but Snufkin would still appreciate the memory of it more than anything. Although the thought of that shouldn’t be so reassuring it gave him a sort of bittersweet calm.

“Now, how about some tea?” Too-ticky said patting Moomintroll’s shoulder, he nodded to her. They had gone to the kitchen and brewed a kettle of tea, now with a warm mug held in his chilly fingers and another soul to talk to Moomin felt more at peace with his situation. But when he looked to Too-ticky she was gazing into her mug with an expression that Moomintroll thought to look rather serious.

“Too-ticky, is everything all right? You’re looking a bit grim there.”

“Oh, it might not be anything really. I would like to know if you’ve seen… anything out of the ordinary?”

“No, why? Have you seen something?”

“I’m more worried about what it is I haven’t seen yet. I had noticed some tracks outside the bath house I had never seen before and I believe some of the shrews have gone missing…”

“Oh dear… Well, maybe the tracks were from a winter creature that’s visiting the valley? And, maybe those missing shrews have just holed up someplace else for the winter?” He wrung his hands together, not much believing his own words.

“Perhaps you’re right, although I think it would still be wise to keep an eye out for whatever might be causing the tracks.” She looked back up at Moomin and noticed the concern on his face, “I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sure whatever this is it isn’t much of a danger! You should be perfectly safe inside of Moomin house. By the way, how have you been fairing so far this winter? Besides getting yourself tangled in yarn I mean.”

Moomintroll felt a pang of embarrassment at the reminder. “Same old, same old I suppose. And what about you? We’re more than midway through winter and you’ve just now arrived, had you had a rough time getting here? You usually show up late autumn before it snows.”

Now it was Too-ticky’s turn to look a bit embarrassed. “No, not quite… I had gotten a bit tangled up myself in some affairs early this season and hadn’t had the time to make the trip when I wanted… And I’m afraid to say that I have some business up north that I’ll be heading off to by spring.”

“Oh, I suppose that can’t be helped. I’m glad you’ve made it here safe through the snow, and I really am grateful that you take the time to check up on me.”

“It’s nothing, I understand this time of year is rough on ya. You know you’re always welcome to stay with me in the bath house if the quiet gets too much, or that you can just visit for a chat when ever.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

The winter went on. Moomintroll worked on his project with a new fervor, leaving the house to visit Too-ticky or to see if Little My had had woken up and sent any mail his way. He had gotten a letter that was sent in the early half of winter that had detailed Little My’s troubles with falling asleep this year because of her sisters ‘constant swooning’ over a currant lover and generally being too obnoxious about it to let her sleep, He had written a letter back but judging by the lack of reply he guesses she had finally fallen asleep. While out he would sometimes see strange tracks that would start and end abruptly in the snow when followed. He figured they must have been the same type of tracks Too-ticky had seen and his concern only grew when he would sometimes see blood or tufts of fur near the tracks. He thought that perhaps it was some sort of cat that was hunting mice in the snow and did not want to think about how sometimes the track maker looked to have dragged something quite big along with them. Although soon he had no need to think about it for the snow began to melt and spring was finally around the corner, and with his gift for Snufkin complete he was in a much more chipper mood. With only a couple days until spring he had dinner at the bath house with Too-ticky to wish her good luck with her trip up north and to say goodbye. That night he walked back home to Moomin house, excited to see everyone again. He will get to eat his mothers pancakes and smell his father’s pipe smoke walking pass his office door and listen to Snufkin’s spring tune when he arrives all on the first-

When he walked in through the door something was wrong. A shift in the air, something about the room felt colder than it should have. He scanned the dark room, the fire place had burned it’s self out and he would have chalked it up to that but he felt there was something else. The feeling of another presence in the room gnawed on him as he closed the door, surely, a bit of light will dispel this paranoia. As he reached for a lamp he saw it, a bit of movement in the shadows. With a shaky breath he decided it best not to startle whatever this is with sudden light, instead he quietly approaches the shifting shape coming out of the fireplace. As he got closer he could see something _very_ long swaying on the floor in a slow almost hypnotic pattern. A rising noise that he at first thought the be the sound of this things movements filled his ears, a scratchy rattle like noise that made his fur stand on end grew louder with every step he took towards the fire place. He knew that he should have turned back out the door and ran to Too-ticky when he finally saw the eyes that had been looking back at him.

*****

The first day of spring is welcoming and calm, the sun shines a little warmer and the southern birds return bearing sweet songs for the waking sleepers. Gone are the bitter days of cold, yearning for better times and comes the start of many a cheerful day of gaiety. Little creeps and fuzzy trolls awake to the promise of things both new and familiar as they emerge from their warm cozy homes, blinking up at their flower speckled surroundings and shaking the melted snow from their hearts with the return of the colour filled world they had left behind at the start of the winter. It’s no wonder that the creatures of Moominvalley welcome the spring back with calm rejoice, filling the valley with the sound of warm greetings.

It’s part of the reason why Snufkin loves to return to the valley with the spring. He loves the world and traveling it very much but it is always a delight to be back and to see the faces of the friends he’s grown so close to. Though he has always considered the world his home, he has to admit that his heart has made its home here in the valley much without his permission. In fact for a while now his heart has even made it quite difficult to leave, though he knows he must leave and he always does he has on more than one occasion considered staying. This winter had been the hardest one yet, his heart ached so badly to stay there in the valley despite that he would be stuck in Moominhouse in the snow and incredibly sick of stagnant air and stiff legs the whole time. Being confined by the same four walls and view outside the window would drive him mad faster than anything. And yet, there was Moomintroll. Moomintroll who waits for his return every spring and welcomes him back better than any spring flower and with a warmth that puts the morning sun to shame. Who calls his name as he runs to greet him on the bridge and the sound to Snufkin is sweeter than any bird’s song or spring tune. Whose presence makes him want to both sing and scream. Moomintroll whose eyes grow so dark with disappointment every autumn when he leaves and that he has to push himself away from him every time he gets too close.

It was perhaps better to not think about autumn, it was a long ways away both forward and back. Instead he thought about being able to see his very good friend after such a long time. He hummed his spring tune to the pace of his boots on the familiar path, and soon enough he was in the valley. Although, something seemed off as he walked. The birds were not singing. He thought perhaps he had somehow beat them there but when he would look up at the tree tops or approached a bush too quietly they were there, present but somber and hiding. He found this very strange, perhaps they were just not in a cheerful enough mood to sing that morning? His thoughts on this quickly slipped his mind when Moominhouse came into view as he crested a hill, with a tap of his mouth organ and skip to his step he played his tune as he walked to the bridge where he and Moomintroll always meet. When he reached the bridge he played out the last few notes, Moomintroll did not come running down from Moominhouse so Snufkin supposed he was still asleep. He took the time to set up his camp, giving his friend some time to sleep in. when he was done he sat down on the bridge and played his tune again.

Still no Moomintroll. He bit down the worry and took out his fishing pole, he could just play the song again when Moomin is awake and with him. As he checked his line and hook the silence of the birds put an anxious foreboding in his chest. Maybe Moomintroll won’t mind if he woke him up to go fishing with him? Deciding on that, he brought a fish pale with him and walked up to Moominhouse’s door and knocked on the door. To his relief Moominmamma answered the door.

“Good spring, Moominmamma. Is Moomintroll awake?”

“Oh, good spring Snufkin” she looked at him in surprise, “and yes, when I woke up he was already out of the house. I had thought you had arrived early and was with you.”

“Huh? No, I had only arrived about an hour ago…” That foreboding has returned to his heart.

“If you like, you can come inside and have breakfast with us while you wait for him. I’m sure he may have just gone out for a walk this morning and will be back soon enough”

“That’s alright Moominmamma, I had been planning to go fishing before it got too late in the day anyway.”

“Well alright dear, it was very nice to see you again! Good luck with catching lots of fish.” And with that she gently closed the door. Snufkin’s mind raced as he walked back to his tent. Perhaps Moominmamma was right, maybe Moomintroll had just woken up earlier in the day and gone out to stretch his legs.

The memories of last autumn come back to him; Moomintroll had caught him while he was packing his things, he looked so sad. He had tried to say goodbye to him, hands fidgeting and brow creased. Snufkin had known what he was wanting to say, known that he wasn’t sure he would be able to say no again if asked. He wasn’t sure if he was angry that Moomin still wanted that from him or that he wouldn’t ask him to, but he closed himself off. He let the morning frost creep its way inside his chest and walked away with hardly a farewell. He had thought at the time it was the best thing to do, rather than to yell or cry or confess everything right there and then. But perhaps Moomintroll had had enough. Maybe he did not want to see him and went so far as to wake up before he arrived to hide. Perhaps the years of forced distance have done their damage and he found it better not to bother. Perhaps it was better… He thought it best for him to pack his things back up and leave, if Moomintroll did not want to see him it would be kinder for the both of them if he did not stay.

But as he put away his fishing gear this foreboding lingered in his heart. The silence rung in his ears, it didn’t feel right. The birds _should_ be singing and come to think about it he hasn’t seen or heard a single creep in the woods when he walked into the valley. It wasn’t abnormally cold and the weather had no signs of possibly turning bad on him, so what on earth has drawn them all to hide on the first day of spring? Perhaps Moomin had noticed this himself when he woke up and left to investigate? What if Moomin’s disappearance and the quiet were connected? Whatever the case was he couldn’t leave now without some sort of answer, there was definitely something going on in Moominvalley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're guessing that I just titled this the first five words that the word document saved its self as on my computer, you'll be right. but an alternate title for this fic is "The author talked too long about knitting and says 'perhaps' too many times, also there's a monster".
> 
> Also, howdy! This is my first fic on AO3 and my first attempt at writing a long fic so pray for me


	2. Hunting Moomin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I would like to thank everyone for all the positive feed back on the first chapter! I'm not very good at responding to comments but know that I greatly appreciate every comment and kudos and that they pretty much make my day every time without fail. <3
> 
> Also guess who's now trying to title their chapters so it will be easier for peeps to later tell them apart at a glance, wink wonk.

Birds hear everything and are always the first to know what ever news or gossip is in the area, no matter if they were there for the winter, so of course if one wants to know what is going on you ask the birds first. But no matter what tune he played the birds will not sing with him and in turn will not tell him what is wrong, so his best course of action would be to go into the woods and find the hiding creeps. It took him a while to find anything, the woods were still and quiet aside from the occasional rustle of wind. But peeking into a burrow under a tree he found a family of hedgehogs, awake and visibly shaken.

“Excuse me for intruding, but why are you all hiding away? It’s spring now you know.”

_Danger, Danger, _the little hoglets echoed each other. Their mother hushed them the best she could. _A dangerous thing. Many lost friends and neighbors in the winter_. She whispered. _Quiet now and leave, danger still near._

He left the family be, whatever had been hunting during the winter has had them all awfully scared. The valley was not free of carnivores but they were few and far between and most stuck to the out skirts and mountains, the prospect of there being _one_ creature near the heart of the valley that has hunted the creatures to the point of scaring them away from the welcome of spring was… unusual to say the least. He went to another burrow, and another. Each one had a creep hiding in much the same way and all spoke of a creature that prowled in the snow all winter. None had gotten a clear look at it, most only have heard the cries of its caught prey and a horrid rattling sound outside their homes. Most concerning of all, two creatures had even said they saw a Moomintroll running through the woods the other night. Snufkin’s mind was going a mile a minute as he searched the forest floor, the ground was soft and muddy from the melted snow so maybe if it hadn’t been too long… _Yes_! Sure enough, there in the dirt was a fading trail of Moomin sized tracks.

The trail twisted and turned and ended along some rockier ground near part of the river that leads down towards Moominhouse. He quietly cursed to himself for hitting a dead end until something caught the corner of his eye, stuck on a bush twig was a tuft of white fur. He got closer and saw another trail of tracks that lead somewhere far off up stream, they looked like they could have been a bit fresher as well. They eventually led him out of the woods and through a hilly field, flowers continued to bloom ether having not gotten the memo from the birds or they simply did so despite the lack of song. He watched as the tracks change as he went on, they sat in uneven distances like their owner had been drunk or staggering in the dark. Suddenly the tracks had changed and the prints were more spaced apart, leading around in every which direction and even lapping over themselves. His pace quickened as they appeared to head back towards the direction of Moominhouse, an occasional second set of prints he couldn’t identify followed the trail and did nothing to settle his nerves. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice behind him yelled his name.

“**_Snufkin!_**” behind him chased Little My and lagging behind her followed Snorkmaiden. “Oi! Where are you off to in such a rush?!”

“Little My! Snorkmaiden! You two haven’t seen Moomintroll around have you?”

“Not yet, we were just heading to Moominhouse. I couldn’t find my hair brush anywhere this morning and was wondering if I had somehow left it there before winter.” Snorkmaiden tried her best to comb her hair down with her fingers as she talked.

“And I just got back from my sister’s. Why? Has he stood you up on your date or something?”

Snufkin ignored Little My’s comment, this was really not the time. “He’s gone _missing_. And he might have been for the past few days before spring.” He kept his voice even, trying not to let worry turn into panic.

“Oh _dear_!” Snorkmaiden gasped, “Do we have any clues as to what happened?”

“I think something had woken him up before spring, he wasn’t at home when Moominmamma woke up and there might have been something out in the woods that had been chasing him…” He pointed to the tracks he had been following, clawed prints that had dug into the ground over lapping round Moomin tracks.

“Oh goodness… Are we sure he was being chased? Could he not have been the one chasing it?” Snorkmaiden said, clutching her hands in worry.

Admittedly Snufkin hadn’t thought of that, he assumed the worst when seeing the second tracks. Unfortunately, when he looked back down the tracks were eroded too much for him to tell.

“I don’t know… Whatever is out there making those tracks has the whole forest spooked, not even the birds will sing.” At his words Little My and Snorkmaiden listened, only the quiet breeze made any sound. “Honestly, I Don’t think I like the idea of Moomintroll chasing this thing much more than him being chased…”

“Where do we even start to find him?”

“I had been following these tracks but they could be days old… Then again, it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

“Not necessarily…” Little My spoke up, “Too-ticky comes here for most winters, if she’s still around she may know something.”

“Oh, good thinking My! She stays at the bathhouse, right? Let’s go and-“

“No, Snorkmaiden. We need you to go to Moominhouse and tell Mamma and Pappa everything, because I don’t think this knucklehead here thought to tell them when he put together that our big white oaf was missing.”

“What? But Moomin’s in danger!-“

“I know, but that’s exactly why we need you to tell his parents Snorkmaiden.” Little My and Snorkmaiden shared a meaningful look that Snufkin couldn’t quite understand then spoke to her in a quieter tone. “Me and Snufkin will find him, I promise.”

There was a frustrated look in her eye before she ran off in the direction of Moominhouse. Snufkin doesn’t think he has ever seen Little My this serious, though he supposes it makes sense. Despite her immaturity and antics she’s still an older sister, some things come naturally or by habit in situations like this. Little My gave Snufkin’s smock a tug and they took off towards the beach.

“Was it really best for her to stay behind for this?”

“Believe me, it’s best for the both of them… and more importantly for all of our sanity.” Little My said in a tone that reminded him of her distaste for romance, she would always make gagging sounds whenever they were all together and Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden would get affectionate with each other… Come to think of it, Snufkin would have to agree that it was for the best. But still, something about the statement seamed off to him. He figured he would bring it up later when it was a better time… For now, they ran through the woods. The trail to the beach was winding and fresh with new growth but still sparse from the winter, running along it reminded Snufkin a little too much of the first time he did so. Just as scared, just as uncertain. He almost expects to get there and see the sea all dried up like before. The familiarity painted an odd Schrödinger-like scenario in his head; if he got there and the sea is still there, Moomin is safe. If the sea is gone, Moomin is-

To his gratitude his thoughts were halted by the appearance of a figure on the road ahead and the shout Little My gave at her recognition. Too-ticky startled at the noise but relaxed her grip on the knife she wielded once she saw them. She was covered in scratches and dirt, like she had been crawling through a bramble patch. She looked so tired.

“Oh thank the booble, it must be spring now isn’t it?” Too-ticky said in a sigh of relief, she did not put the knife away but simply let her arm relax to her side.

“It’s the first day and we’re missing a certain doofus, any idea where he is?”

“You mean Moomintroll? Yes yes, if he isn’t still searching like I am than he’s resting in the bathhouse.”

“He’s alright?” Snufkin said in a hopeful relief. The sea is there, Moomin is safe. His relief faltered when Too-ticky hesitated.

“Well, as alright as one can be. It’s been a rather hectic few days…”

“You said you two were searching for something, what is it that you’re looking for?” Snufkin had tried to ask but a sharp whistle broke their conversation.

“Hey you two, hurry on up!” Little My called back, now a good ways down the path.

“You can ask him yourself when we get there.” Too-ticky said patting a hand on Snufkin’s shoulder.

The two hastily caught up and the three of them walked to the beach. Snufkin was appreciative of not having to run anymore but it also felt too slow and did nothing to quell the anxious anticipation coiling inside of him. When they made it to the sandy shore he almost didn’t want to look up at first but then had to hold back a sigh of relief at the sight of the ocean, as blue and vast as it always has been. Reaching out past the glittering horizon where it kisses the sky, both promising freedom and there to be more places to roam in the world. He realizes it was a bit silly to think it would disappear, Moomintroll hadn’t disappeared with the sea when the comet had been threatening overhead so why would the sea go missing when Moomin had? The bathhouse was just a short walk away, built in classic Moominpappa fashion and perched out on the water on the end of a dock. The ocean breeze was still frigid from the winter and nipped at their noses and ears as they walked to the bathhouse door, Too-ticky rhythmically knocked on the door and waited. After a moment a voice called out in a muffled response. “I’m here!” At that Too-ticky let out a breath she was holding and finally sheathed her knife before opening the door.

Inside sat Moomintroll hunched over some papers at a table by the small woodstove, fatigue making him droop like a pile of melting snow. He looked less like he had been crawling in brambles like Too-ticky had and more like he had been mauled, bandages covered some deeper wounds and patches of dried blood and mud clung to his messy white fur that had small bald patches where some of the scratches and bite marks were more dense. He mumbled as he bounced the rubber end of a pencil on the wooden surface.

“I couldn’t find anything by the waterfall, and I swear I’ve looked under every rock and tree root in the valley… Too-ticky we’re running out of places to look, I’m beginning to think this thing just-“ He stopped once he looked up at who entered.

“Snufkin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of a tough time with this chapter, I was having a bit of burn-out from writing in general but after a short break I felt a lot better and managed to finish it and get started on the next chapter. I really don't like how short this one came out but I don't think there was really anyway I could have made it longer without needlessly stretching it out... I probably should have put the Snufkin part at the end of chapter 1 in this chapter buuut it is what it is I guess.
> 
> Also, the new total chapter estimate is twelve for now.


End file.
